Chicken Paprika

Sure, why wouldn't you walk
that distance for chicken?

This is a valued and cherished family recipe that the Polish contingent of my mom's ancestry almost certainly stole from a famous Hungarian dish called Chicken Paprikash. Why would these old-timey Polish beet farmers (I assume) steal (I assume) a recipe from a country that's like 150 miles away (I google)? Well, apparently the two countries have pretty good relations, and a polish general even became a Hungarian hero after he defended Transylvania in a war. I'm not kidding. To paraphrase, Hungarians and Polish people like each other and probably shared bits of culture and cuisine because a long time ago a Polish man helped defend Hungary's treasured natural supply of vampires. Apparently the Hungarians were so incredibly thankful that they entrusted to Poland the recipe for Chicken Paprikash, a dish which contains no garlic whatsoever. They probably also gave the Polish their advanced neck washing technology, and their relaxing method of self massage via meat tenderizer. My family's Chicken Paprika recipe is a little different than a traditional Chicken Paprikash, but it is similar in a number a key ways, such as its inability to protect you against the undead.

Ingredients:
2 lb. Chicken Breast (You're looking for boneless, skinless chicken cutlets here. You can butcher them yourselves, or buy them pre-butchered from a butcher, or the butcher shop of a supermarket. Butcher butcher butcher.)
2 cups Flour
3 standard-issue Onions
1 lb. Carrots
2 cups Vegetable Stock
1/4 cup Vegetable Oil
1/2 tsp Black Pepper
Paprika (Traditional chicken paprikash tends to use sweet paprika. My mom's recipe calls for whatever paprika you get at the store. I use smoked paprika because I like that flavor. And so the evolution of cuisine continues.)
Salt

So I'm going to get the religious jargon out of the way right off the bat. It's currently the Jewish holiday of Passover, where religious Jews eschew such fancy modern things as...the vast majority of all foodstuffs, and instead eat flavorless crackers called matzoh, because nothing says "festivity" like "flavorless crackers." This is a dish that my family traditionally has on Passover, but regular old flour isn't so much allowed. So if you're in the same religious boat as me, replace the flour with finely ground flavorless crackers, and be on your merry way. Regardless of what floury substance you're using, combine it with a gentleman's pinch of both salt and pepper, along with a teaspoon of paprika. Toss your chicken in the seasoned flour mixture to give it a loose coating and a false sense of security before you unceremoniously toss it in to a pot with your hot oil in it over medium heat. Cook it for a couple minutes on each side, without fussing too much with it, so that it develops some nice browning. Work in batches if you have to, because it's better to wait an extra 10 minutes for delicious food than to have your food come out like hot garbage. That's an ancient Polish-Hungarian saying. Well, the original saying was more about leaving your windows unlocked at night, and not keeping wooden stakes around the house, but I'm sure this is what they meant.

Ok, we may have different definitions on what constitutes a
"bite-sized" chunk of carrot

While this is all going down, thinly slice your onions, peel your carrots, and chop them (The carrots) in to bite-sized chunks. Once your chicken is properly browned, take it out of the pot and toss your onions in to replace it along with another average-sized human's pinch of salt. Let that cook down for about 5 minutes, stirring occasionally. While they're cooking, combine your vegetable stock with...just a bunch of paprika. I think the actual recipe may call for something like 1.5 tablespoons, but when I've watched my mom make it she usually opens up the jar of paprika and just glops out about half the container. What's the worst that will happen? People will complain that your chicken paprika has too much paprika? Then knew what they were getting in to. Once your onions are soft and weak, like unsuspecting villagers, throw everybody in the pot. Your paprika stock, your chicken, your carrots. Everybody. Bring that whole mess up to a boil then cover it, reduce the heat to low, and simmer that sucker for 45 minutes. Once you're done, dump that pot of deliciousness into a pan and bake it, uncovered, at 350 degrees for 20 minutes. And that's it! Enjoy it on a picnic, at a passover seder, or while mourning the loss of another beloved neighbor or friend who mysteriously disappeared from the village last night. The choice is yours!

Lokshen Milk

Welcome to the exciting, fast-paced world of eating way too
much dairy. Currently unincorporated

Everyone grew up eating something. For some people that something was unreasonably large amounts of fast food. For others it was cheap ingredients, coerced against their natures into delicious home-cooked meals designed to stretch a struggling family’s income. And for some it was...I don't know…chicken? What do nondescript people eat? I'm sticking with chicken. Chicken and asparagus. Some people ate chicken and asparagus. Today however, we’re focusing on the second category of food, and specifically on a dish that I remember fondly from my youth. It’s easy to make, tastes good, and is a great way to feed a family for about two dollars and some change. And the recipe has been in my family for generations. Two generations, as far as I know, but it still counts.

Ingredients:

½ gallon Milk
½ lb. Pasta (traditionally, growing up, my family was fairly specific about the pasta used. Upon growing up I've come to realize that it doesn't really matter, and my mother won't actually barge into my apartment and stop me from using the “wrong noodles.” Because I won't buzz her up.)
1.5 TBSP Butter
Salt

The first thing you're gonna need to do is channel your inner poor immigrant of vaguely eastern-European descent. Got it? Cool, let’s get started. The name Lokshen Milk, loosely translated, means noodle milk. Which sounds super gross, especially given the propensity these days for weird alternative forms of milk. But what it actually is, essentially, is a soup. Maybe even a stew, depending on the proportions of the ingredients (which I guess is technically true of most things), but I'm gonna play it safe and stick with the soup version. Anyhow, take your pasta and throw it in some boiling water until it's al dente (a curious Italian phrase I may have mocked at one time or another, that means “to the tooth.” Which essentially means that it [the pasta] is cooked, but still offers resistance when bitten. Like a sleeping person on a beach).

It looks exactly like what it is. A bowl full of milk and pasta.
It tastes awesome though.

Once your pasta is cooked to my liking, drain it and then throw it right back into the pot again. Add in your butter and milk, along with salt to taste, and bring that sucker up to...well, not quite a boil. Boiling milk is generally frowned upon. People say it burns super easily and that it kills the nutrients. This may be true. What's definitely true is that it makes a crazy mess. So bring your milk up to just under a boil. Then serve it up to your squalling family by the bowlful. And I know that some of you are undoubtedly sitting with your hands eagerly raised, begging to ask how a giant bowl of milk, butter, pasta, and salt can possibly be healthy for you. Well, I promised it'd be cheap, easy, and delicious. I also may have promised through insinuation that it wouldn't be chicken and asparagus. I never said anything about healthy.

Sloppy Joe

So, according to the internet, another name for a Sloppy Joe
is a "Wimpie." So this happened. Because I'm a child.

Legend has it that back in Sioux City, Iowa (The "Tallahassee" of Iowa) a chef named Joe invented what he called "The loose meat sandwich." And it was awesome. But the only thing known to man that sounds less appealing than "Loose Meat Sandwich" is "Fishguts Ice Cream," so it's no surprise that the name didn't stick. The awesomeness did though. As little as 10 years later, cookbooks were printing recipes for "Sloppy Joe" sandwiches, which sounds like a super backhanded compliment to me. They're down for naming the sandwich after him, but they still have to get a dig in at Joe's expense. Because cookbook writers are jerks. Then again, apparently the term "Sloppy Joe" used to refer to any cheap diner food, or even to cheap clothing. So maybe they weren't insulting Joe himself, just his job, cooking, clientele, and clothes.

Ingredients:

1 lb. Ground Beef
1 standard-issue Onion
1 Bell Pepper
1 clove Garlic
8 oz. Tomato Sauce
2 TBSP Chili Powder
1 TBSP Tomato Paste
1 tsp Ground Cumin
1/2 tsp Black Pepper
1/2 tsp Ground Mustard 
1/2 tsp Worcestershire Sauce (Nobody can ever agree on how to pronounce this name, but it's named after an actual place, so that should make it simple. It's pronounced "Glasgow.")
1/2 tsp Balsamic Vinegar
1/4 tsp Hot Sauce
Oil
Salt 

The first thing you're gonna need to do is brown your meat so you can set it aside like a neglectful parent who has better things to do than pick you up from soccer practice, thank you very much. So coat a pan with oil, heat it over medium heat, throw your beef in there, and let it sizzle for a bit (Oxford comma added for reasons of logic and awesome). Flip it and repeat, and then break up your ground beef into little beeflets using a wooden spoon. Drain any excess liquid, and set your beef aside so it can learn the hard way how to use the bus system. 

Buns sold separately. Sense of deep emotional fulfillment
may not apply in your region.

Choppity chop your onions, bell pepper, and garlic into tiny bits. Sauté your onion in a pan coated with oil along with an average-sized human's pinch 'o salt. Coom for about 3 minutes before adding in your belle pepper, garlic, and another AHSP of salt. Cook for another 2 minutes, then add in your chili powder, black pepper, mustard, tomato paste, and hot sauce. If your beef has managed to find its way back home, this is a good time to add it back in to the party as well. Let that whole nonsense cook down for a minute or so and then add in your tomato sauce, worcestershire, and balsamic. Cook for another 2 minutes, or until it smells so good that you literally can't stop yourself from reaching your hand in and shoving that goodness in your food hole, forks, propriety, and severe burns be-damned. And there you have it! Sloppy Joes! Throw that sucker down on a bun and enjoy. Or get creative and put it in an egg roll, or on mashed potatoes, or just eat it straight. Or don't. More for me. 

Chicago Pizza

Chicago: City of broad shoulders and thick pizzas

Let's get one thing clear. This post isn't about bashing New York pizza as inferior. That said, this will be the best pizza you've ever had. Also, New York pizza is terrible. Well, at least it is now. Because when I say "New York pizza," I'm not talking about what New York pizza used to be, which most of us would just call regular pizza. I'm talking about the nonsense that's popped up more recently where New Yorkers, feeling threatened by the thick slab of awesome that is Chicago Pizza, started taking pride in getting their crust as thin as humanly possible, to the point where you're pretty much just eating a cheesy cracker. The point is, there is absolutely nothing wrong with regular pizza. But there's something incredible about Chicago style pizza, which is full of flavor and weighs more than you do. And also, modern New York cracker pizza is an abomination to the pizza lord. Their time will come.

Ingredients;

3 cups Flour

1 cup warm Water (if you can't find warm water at your local supermarket, but some regular water and throw fire at it)

32 oz. Tomato Sauce

10 oz. Mozzarella

10 oz. Spicy Sausage (If, like me, you fall into the religious Jew category of life, or if you fall into the vegetarian category, use vegetarian sausage. If, like me, you've discovered that vegetarian sausage sucks, make your own using fake ground meat, spices, butter, flour, tomato sauce, and fire.)

1/4 cup Vegetable Oil

1/4 cup Olive Oil 

1/4 cup softened Butter

1/4 cup Corn Meal (Chicago Pizza is very 1/4 cup-centric. This dates back decades to the Bears inability to get a decent quarterback. It's a sad story, but it makes for good pizza. I'm gonna call it worth it)

2 tsp Salt
1 packet of Instant Yeast

More Olive Oil!
A cast iron skillet!

The first thing you're gonna need to do is channel your inner Chicagoan. For me, that's not a problem, since my inner Chicagoan happens to also be my outer Chicagoan. So much so that I hunted down a Packers bar out here in LA, and watched a Bears/Packers game there dressed in an array of Bears gear. For the rest of you, just fake it and commit hard. Once you've got that down, mix your Yeast and your Water, and let them sit for a couple minutes to get to know each other. If necessary, play some smooth jazz. Then mix in your Vegetable and Olive oils and whisk until it all looks homogenous. Add in your Corn Meal and your Flour, and get ready for some fun. In case you were wondering, by "fun" I meant "kneading. All of the kneading. All that there could be." Some swanky recipes will tell you to use a "stand mixer," with a "bread hook," to make this part easier on your hands. But since I happen to be a man, and not some sort of nonsensical hipster boychild, we're doing this by hand. Also, I don't own any of those things. Mix your dough until it starts to form a goopy ball of dough in the middle of your bowl (By the way, you should have been mixing these things in a bowl, not just throwing them down on an increasingly messy table) then start to knead the crap out of it. Take the heel of your hand, and press it into your dough mound. Then stretch it over itself. After about 2 minutes, add in your Butter, and then continue until your arm hurts, and you wish you'd never read this blog in the first place. About 5 minutes, all things considered.

I warned you. The best pizza you've ever had. Chicago
pizza: anything less would be uncivilized.

Take your dough ball, and put it in bowl you rubbed down with Olive Oil. Let it sit there for about 40 minutes to rise. Once it rises, punch it down to teach it a valuable life-lesson. Then let it rise again just to give it hope for a better tomorrow. Now it's time to assemble this pizza. Rub some Olive Oil on your cast iron skillet, and plop your dough ball down in the middle. Gently press it down and out towards the edge of the pan, and eventually up the sides of it, forming a thin layer. It will try to spring back down into the pan like a jerk. Keep pulling it back up the sides of the pan. Be persistent, and break its will. Then spread out your sausage in a layer along the bottom. Top it with a layer of your Mozzarella, and finally a layer of Tomato Sauce. Take that whole pan full of awesome and throw it into a 425 degree oven for 40-60 minutes, until the crust gets golden and awesome looking. Once it's ready, try your best to let it cool slightly before digging in. Fail at this, and give yourself consolation points for not just shoving yourself face-first into the pizza, disfiguring burns be-damned. Fail at this too. Enjoy!

Hot Dog Pie

For the freshest sausage, ask your cashier if it was packaged
today, like 5 or 6 times. I'm sure he'll take good care of you.

When I was growing up, my mom would often make a dish she referred to as "hot dog pie." The practical effect of it was to feed the family with vegetables, starch, and protein on a budget, and to keep us from realizing that we were poor. Now if you ask her about it she refers to it as peasant food. This is a slightly gussied up version of that (because I can), with "hot dogs" replaced with "italian sausage," "instant mashed potatoes" replaced with "real potatoes," and "no mushrooms" replaced with "yes mushrooms." Why did she call it hot dog pie? Who knows? Traditionally, the word "pie" is considered to have originated from the Latin word for magpie. Because it was made up of a collection of random nonsense that somebody threw together, cooked, and ate. Because that's what you do if it's the Middle Ages. Well, that and die of the Black Death.

Ingredients:

8 Standard Issue Potatoes

1 lb. Italian Sausage

2 Cups Peas

6 oz. Cremini Mushrooms

3 cloves Garlic

3/4 Cup Soy Milk

1 TBSP Olive Oil

An unspecified amount of Salt

The first thing you're gonna need to do is fill a big pot with cold water. Dump your potatoes in it and crank up the heat. Then take a load off, because a big pot of water takes approximately 3 generations to boil. Pass this recipe on to your children, and instill in them the values to pass it on to their own children. Once that's taken care of, and your family heirloom water is boiling, it's time to really get started. Throw your sausage right up in your boiling potato water (I'm gonna go on record, and support the controversial statement that Boiling Potato Water is an awesome name for a Ska band. But then again, what isn't?). Let them boil freely, without any taxes or restrictions, for 10 minutes. During this troubling time of sausage boiling, comfort yourself with the chopping into itty bits of your Mushrooms and Garlic. Heat up your Olive Oil in a pan, and sauté your Mushroom bits along with an Average Sized Human's Pinch of Salt. Once they've started to shrink a bit, and are smelling super awesome, add in the Peas and Garlic along with another AHSP of Salt. Let it go for another minute or two before turning off the heat, and oh! By the way, it's likely been more than 10 minutes. Your sausages should be out of your potato water. If they're not, don't panic. Just shove your bare hands into the boiling water to get them out as fast as possible so that you don't bring shame upon your dojo. Or, take your time and carefully retrieve them with a kitchen tool of some kind. Like a dojo-shame-bringing wuss.

Yeah, that's got everything you need right there. Link in the
captions! First time! Enjoy it suckers.

Boil your potatoes until they get soft all the way through, like a Congressman. This should take about 30 minutes from the time the water started to boil (For the potatoes. Congressmen soften in closer to 20 minutes). Once they're done, drain out all of that potato-sausage-water (which sounds like a very Eastern European euphemism for using the toilet), and mash the crap out of them there spuds, along with 2 AHSPs of Salt, and your Soy Milk. Once your potatoes are the right flavor and consistency (smooth, and not quite salty enough, like Jazz played on the speakers in an airport), stir in the sautéed deliciousness your have in your pan. And enjoy. If my calculations are correct, this cost me about 13 dollars, and it made enough food to feed at least 6 people. If you take it closer to the original, with plain hot dogs and no mushrooms, you'd cut it down to about 9 dollars. So get out there and make some delicious food on a reasonable budget to feed your family. Or about 3 drunk people. Or 1 guy, who's really drunk.